


Pick Of The Litter

by TheseusInTheMaze



Category: markiplier - Fandom
Genre: Anal Sex, Blow Bang, Blow Job, Domesticity, Gender Neutral Self Insert, Multi, Oral Sex, Rambling Conversations, Rimming, Self Insert
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-26
Updated: 2018-07-26
Packaged: 2019-06-16 09:44:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,637
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15434295
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheseusInTheMaze/pseuds/TheseusInTheMaze
Summary: You, Tyler, and Mark are still settling into the triad thing. It's going smoothly, more or less.





	Pick Of The Litter

**Author's Note:**

  * For [NBmess](https://archiveofourown.org/users/NBmess/gifts).



> Almost all of my knowledge of saints comes from _The Hidden Almanac_ \- apologies if I got some of it wrong - no disrespect is intended.

You're lying on top of Tyler when you hear the door open.

It takes every bit of self control not to jerk away, to freeze.

But Tyler's hand is on your lower back, and that's... that's relaxing.

It has, admittedly, been a long day - you had a long day at work, and you came home, sweaty and exhausted, to have Tyler sprawled out on the couch, and after you showered, how could you resist getting in to cuddle him?

Especially when he'd been all sprawled out, and he'd looked at you with those gorgeous eyes of his, entreating you to come lie with him. 

So now you're sprawled out on top of him, your ear pressed against his chest, his chin on top of your head. 

"I'm home," Mark warbles, and then there's barking, as Chica comes over, and Mark is trying to shush her, and you're still fighting every instinct to spring up.

The whole... well, the whole triad thing is new.

It's not that you're new to polyamory - oh, far from it, you've been polyamorous for as long as you've been dating - but usually... you don't live with both of your partners at the same time.

Let alone two partners at the same time, who are _also_ each other's partners.

Some part of your brain still worries about stuff like compersion, or causing jealousy with your metamours.

Even though your metamours are also your partners.

This shit is complicated.

"Hi," Tyler calls.

His voice rumbles through your chest.

"Hi," you call as well.

"We having a movie watching party that I missed out on?"

Mark comes in, and oh, but he looks nice.

He went on a date, and now he's standing here, dressed in a button down shirt, a nice blazer, a pair of slacks.

"This was a nice movie watching time for people who weren't being taken on whirlwind dates," Tyler informs Mark. 

You freeze once again - shit.

Are you coming off as shaming?

You don't want to shame Mark for going on dates, you guys are open about all of this, that's one of those things that you all agreed on.

"It wasn't really a whirlwind date," Mark says, and he's sitting down on the chair by the couch, leaning back into it, make some sound of relief. 

"Do you uh, do you want me to get up?"

You make to sit up, but Tyler is still holding you against him.

He likes the pressure of your body on top of his, and he likes the closeness.

Mark looks at you sidelong.

"Why would I want you to get up?"

"To give you space on the couch."

"Nah, you guys cuddle," said Mark, and he looked fond.

You try to shut down the little bit of anxiety in the back of your throat, and let Tyler rub your back, relaxing you, bit by bit.

"How was your date?"

Tyler's voice is rumbling through you, and it's enough to make you sigh, as he runs his hands across your back. 

"It was good," Mark says, and he leans back into his chair, slipping out of his blazer, then rolling his sleeves up.

You're eyeing his forearms, trying not to stare too much, because... well, he is a _very_ good looking person, what with one thing and another. 

And now Mark has his hands behind his head, and he's very clearly relaxing, his eyes half closed.

"You gonna call them back?"

"I dunno," said Mark. "They're a bit... cagey about the whole internet celebrity thing."

"Right," you say.

You were a little cagey about it yourself, truth be told, but you stay off camera, and it's all good.

Although you do still roll your eyes at them when they get into some of their mishaps, like the human pinata thing.

"But if nothing else, the food was good."

"What'd you get?"

"Artisanal pizza," Mark pronounces.

"What makes it artisanal? Isn't most pizza artisanal, if you're at a restaurant?"

"Probably the fancy ingredients," says Mark. "They had a lot of fancy toppings, like clams."

Tyler is wrinkling his nose.

"Who wants _clams_ on a pizza?!"

"I did," Mark says, in a haughty tone of voice.

"That's against nature," says Tyler.

"If god hadn't wanted us to put clams on pizza, he wouldn't have made it so delicious," said Mark.

You snort.

"What are your thoughts on the matter?"

"Who, me?"

"Yeah."

You shrug.

"I think that clams can go on anything they wanna go on," you say. 

"That was diplomatic," says Mark, and he looks amused.

You stick your tongue out at him, and he raises an eyebrow.

"Is that an invitation?"

"Not if you've been eating clams," says Tyler from under you.

"I'm not offering to kiss _you_ just now," says Mark. 

"Yeah, but if the two of you kiss, I'll be getting second hand clam pizza breath on me," says Tyler in a voice that he is definitely trying to make whiny.

"You're a big baby," Mark says, and he reaches over, tugging on Tyler's foot, which is dangling over one edge of the couch.

Tyler makes a distressed noise, and he pulls his foot away, nearly unseating you, as you cling to his shirt.

"Sorry," says Tyler.

"Mark should apologize," you say.

"Why should I?"

"Because he's the one who made you wriggle."

"A thousand pardons," Mark says, his voice deadpan.

You snicker.

"That's what I thought," you say. 

"I'm going to brush my teeth," says Mark. 

"Maybe change out of your date clothes too," says Tyler.

"We'll let you in on this cuddle action," you add.

... that was brave of you.

Inviting him on the time you're having with Tyler.

Or is it inviting Tyler into your time with Mark?

God, this was easier before you moved in.

But Tyler snorts, making an amused noise.

"I'm the one being cuddled on," he reminds you.

"Shit, sorry, I wasn't think of that, it wasn't fair of me to -"

"I meant that you'd both be kinda heavy on me, at the same time," he says, and he's smiling at you, his expression fond. "Not any kind of polyamory thing or anything like that."

"... oh," you say, and you might be blushing, just a bit.

He grins, and he ruffles your hair.

You lean into it, and you sigh, enjoying the sensation of his fingers on your back, gently scratching the bare bit of skin where your shirt is riding up.

You might be interested in some kind of physical... something, but you're tired. 

You're tired, and your feet hurt.

Your feet hurt, your back hurt, your legs hurt....

"My job is killing me," you say, right into Tyler's chest.

Tyler makes a sympathetic noise, and he pats you on the lower back, his big hand spanning across you.

You sigh, snuggling into him, and he keeps petting you.

You could fall asleep like this.

You're awfully tempted to - he's so warm, so cuddly, and you're so tired. 

The movie on is just droning - you're not really paying attention to it, you're just enjoying the fact to get petted, to lie here on top of someone comfortable, but... it's not doing much. 

You sigh, and he keeps rubbing your back in soothing circles, and if you nuzzle your face into his chest, which is firm and smells like him.

He makes another soothing noise, still rubbing your back, and you let yourself start to drift off.

Fuck it. 

You live here now - why not fall asleep on top of him?

* * *

You're woken up by Tyler shifting his position, sitting up some.

You blink up at him, and he smiles down at you, looking slightly self conscious.

"Hi," says Tyler. 

"Hi," you say.

"What's up?" Mark is sitting on the edge of the couch.

Self conscious, you draw yourself up, so that you're taking up less space, so he can sit closer to you, his hip against your hip.

Mark wraps an arm around your shoulders, and he rests his head on your shoulder, giving you a squeeze.

"Hi," he says.

"Hi," you say. 

"You both said that already," says Tyler.

"Shut up," says Mark, but there isn't any rancor in it. "I brushed my teeth," he adds.

"I wasn't the one offended by the clam breath, that was Tyler," you remind Mark.

"Still," says Mark, and he leans down, pecking you on the mouth.

His breath is sharp, and it tastes like anise.

He uses a weird, hippie toothpaste, because of course he does.

He claims he likes it because it makes his mouth feel cleaner.

You suspect it's because Tyler doesn't really like anise, so Tyler doesn't try to steal any of it. 

You kiss him back anyway, because it's Mark.

He's wearing soft, comfortable clothes now, an old pair of pajama pants, a t-shirt that looks suspiciously like one of Tyler's.

Now that you live with the both of them, you realize how much clothing swappage there is.

Not that you're complaining - it's honestly really cute.

You yawn, stretch, and then you turn your face to the side, to kiss Tyler, since he's on your other side.

He kisses you back, and it's a longer kiss a soft, sweet kiss, and you sigh into it, his tongue against your tongue, his lips moving against yours.

One of his hands is on your face.

The other hand is over your shoulder, and you realize, with some surprise, that he's holding Mark's hand.

... huh.

The three of you, as a unit, haven't done much in the way of... intimacy.

You got together with Tyler originally, then Mark, and then... well, there had been a lot of feelings talk, and you're intimate with both of them, one on one, but living together has been... interesting.

Different.

Exciting.

Your heart is beating very loudly in your ears, although you're not sure why.

Maybe it's just due to how... unorthodox the whole relationship is.

Guys like them don't really end up with people like you, do they?

Not that you're down on yourself, per se, but you're not exactly... well.

You're not the main pick of the litter.

Although... hmm.

"What's the pick of the litter?"

You're speaking right up against Tyler's lips.

Tyler pulls back, and he looks at you, confused.

"Hm?"

"Pick of the litter," you say, and you're only blushing a little bit.

"Oh," he says. "Um. I'm not sure."

"I can look it up," says Mark, and just like that, the quiet moment is over.

You killed it.

You'd be embarrassed, but... eh.

There's something nice about being able to sit together, the three of them, without having to worry about anyone getting jealous or envious, without having to worry about whether you're feeling compersion or not.

Mark is scrolling through his phone, squinting - he didn't wear his glasses for his date, and he must have taken his contact out when he changed clothes.

You grin at him fondly, because that's such a Mark type thing to do. 

"The pick of the litter is when you get the best puppy or kitten or piglet or... whatever else has litters," says Mark. 

"Oh," you say. "What do they mean by "best," in this case?"

"Well," says Mark, "probably the prettiest, or the smartest, or the healthiest?"

"Yeah," you say. "That would make sense."

"Why?"

"My brain went on a tangent," you say. 

"Oh," says Mark.

"I think you're both the pick of the litter," Tyler says, out of the blue.

You shoot him a look out of the corner of your eye, and you're blushing so hard that you might just pass out. 

Oh god.

You glance at Mark, and you can see him grinning bashfully.

"Well," says Mark, "that was sappy."

"It's why you love me," Tyler says, and you blush harder, leaning back into the back of the couch, each of their arms over your shoulders.

Tyler leans in, kissing you on the temple, and Mark kisses you on the cheek.

You sigh, relaxing into it, and you put your feet up onto the coffee table.

"So what movie are we watching?"

"You've been sitting here for ages," says Tyler. "Why are you only now just commenting on this?"

"I was distracted," Mark says, in a slightly defensive, but clearly amused tone of voice. "My two partners are here, what am I supposed to do, pay attention to literally anything else in the world?"

Tyler snorts, rolls his eyes, and you cover your face with both hands, beginning to cackle, because... well, damn. 

This is all so cheesy. 

Not necessarily in a bad way, but... the kind of cheesy that used to make you roll your eyes.

You're not so sure these days.

Maybe you're getting more comfortable with cheese as you get older.

... or maybe these two just bring it out of you.

"It's nothing special," Tyler says. "Just some dumb action movie."

"I'm all for dumb action movies," Mark says, settling into the couch, putting his feet up as well.

You settle in to get good and comfortable, between the two of them, and you let the calmness flow over you - let yourself finally be at ease, between your two partners.

* * * 

The movie ends, and you glance at the clock, making a face.

"We should go to bed," you say.

"Right," says Mark, and then he clears his throat, and looks at both of you. "Would either of you like... um... company tonight?"

He's blushing, just a bit.

You can't help but grin.

Oh, Mark.

He still gets faintly flustered, both at the idea of sexual things, and at inviting you to do stuff in front of each other.

You've all been a strange sort of triangle for such a long time, instead of the circle you are now.

... sort of.

Maybe you're mixing your metaphors up because you're tired or something.

"I wouldn't mind some," Tyler allows.

"I'd like a night to myself," you say, with a bit of regret.

But you're tired, and you want to sleep, you want to not be quite so sore.

Anyway, it's nice to know that the two of them can make each other feel good. 

That sometimes you can be your own person, doing your own thing.

That was one of the foundations of you moving in here - that the three of you would all have your own rooms, that the three of you would all have your own space.

You adore the both of them - you do! - but having a place where you can metaphorically let it all hang out is nice.

So you kiss each of them, and then you go to the bathroom, to brush your teeth and wash your face.

You can hear the two of them in Tyler's bedroom, talking quietly, and then you're turning out the light and climbing into bed.

You're tired - it'll be nice to be able to just... get some sleep.

You sigh, and you hear some more vague speech noises from the other side of the door.

You smile to yourself, just a bit, and you close your eyes. 

This is nice.

As weird as it is, it's... it's nice.

It's comforting, to know you've got a place, even if you're not in the thick of it.

... as it were.

* * * 

You wake up at a reasonable hour, your hair a mess, your mind still sluggish and on your pillow.

You slept like the dead, which does make sense - you had a long shift.

But now you're at the breakfast table, eating a piece of toast, trying to get your mind to do something like function.

Tyler is there as well, and he's scrambling eggs.

He looks... cheerful.

He's got a hickey on the left side of his neck - it's a pretty impressive hickey. 

You eye it, but he doesn't seem to notice it.

Maybe he hasn't looked in the mirror yet.

"Where's Mark?"

"He's working out," says Tyler, "by the pool."

"Right," you say, and you lean back, still eating your toast.

"You sure you don't want me to make you something?"

"Nah," you say. "I'm not in a heavy eating mood."

"What kind of a mood are you in?"

"I'm in a being awake mood," you say.

"Really? You don't look it."

You stick your tongue out at him.

He raises an eyebrow at you, and he grins, then leans down, putting the plate of eggs (with a bowl on top of them) at Mark's spot on the table.

"I'm going to go take a shower, before Mark uses up all the hot water," he tells you.

"He's only done that a few times," you tell him. 

"Still," says Tyler, and he leans down, to kiss you on the top of the head, then going towards the bathroom.

"That's not an answer," you shout after him.

He gives a shrug, and is on his way up the stairs.

* * *

Mark comes in, dripping sweat and looking like some kind of swamp beast, a few minutes later. 

"Hi," you say to him.

"Hi," he says, and then he's going straight for the sink, and... sticking his head under it.

Um.

He emerges from underneath it, dripping, and then he's grinning at you. 

"Good workout, then?"

You're trying not to stare at the way the water is dripping down his muscles. 

Or, for that matter, at the way his muscles seem to almost... ripple.

God, he's good looking.

They're both good looking - it's one of the many reasons you're so fond of them. 

It helps to have someone you can just admire, that you can lean back and just... look at.

Although sometimes he catches you looking, and he makes eye contact.

... like right now.

Um.

You're blushing again, licking your lips, and he's smiling at you, one eyebrow up.

"See anything you like?"

He's deepened his voice a bit, just for the sake of it, possibly an attempt at flirting with you, although by this point, you'd think that you'd be beyond flirting, right?

Or maybe being at the point where you live together and are still flirting is a good thing.

Right?

... maybe you're overthinking this, just a little bit.

But he smiles at you, and then he leans over you, wrapping his arms around you.

"Marrrrrk," you groan, "dude. You're all _wet_!"

"Well," he says, "that is what happens when you exercise!"

You roll your eyes, stick your tongue out at him, and he sticks his tongue back out at you.

You're laughing when he leans down to kiss you.

* * * 

You lose track of things a bit, at that point - there was laughing, and then you were standing, and now you've got him pinned to the cabinets, and you're kissing him.

You're kissing him, even though his breath isn't as nice as it could be, but his skin is soft under his stubble, and his fingers are broad as they span your hips.

You grind your hips forward, your chest against his, and then he's moving the two of you around, and he's got _you_ pinned, with his lower body, as his hands roam across your upper body, across your chest, then tangling in your head, to force your head back.

He kisses along your neck, and you're reminded of the hickey on Tyler's neck.

"Are you in vampire mode or something?"

Your voice is thick.

"Mmm?"

He nips you, right on the shoulder, and then he's pushing your shirt to the side, so he can dig his teeth into the skin there.

You groan, and you arch against him, his sweaty shirt releasing some moisture when you squeeze it.

... ew.

He grabs your ass, and he squeezes it, hard enough that you're moaning into his mouth, you're pressing closer, wrapping your leg around his waist and rolling your hips.

He's already hard, and you're... well, your interest is pretty obvious, in the pajama shorts you're wearing, and you know that he can feel it, right up against him.

He makes a contented noise, and he reaches between the two of you, putting his hand right up against you.

"Oh," he says, and his voice is husky enough that it's vibrating through your chest. "Somebody is excited."

"You practically did a strip tease in front of me," you grumble at him.

"How is ducking my head under the water a strip tease, huh?"

"I mean," you say, "when you do that, I can see... everything."

"Not everything-everything," he says, and he rolls his hips for emphasis. 

"I don't have to see _everything_ to know that it's there," you tell him. "It's a dick. they're not exactly subtle."

He snorts, but then he's kissing you, and your hands are in his (damp, urgh) hair, and then he's sliding his hands up under the hem of your shirt, skating his palms along your belly.

You shudder, and he grins, twisting your nipples with his fingertips.

You groan, and your hips jerk forward, because... fuck, your nipples have always been extra sensitive.

You loll your head back, and that... you hit your head on the cabinets.

Ow.

There's a pause, and he looks at you.

"Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," you say, sheepish, and you rub the back of your head with one hand. "Ow."

"This is why we should probably do this on a bed," he says. 

You snort. 

"Like hell I'm letting you on my bed when you're that gross," you tell him, your tone jokingly stern.

He rolls his eyes, and then he gets on his knees, in one fluid motion.

You raise an eyebrow, as he grabs the waistband of your pajama bottoms and just... yanks them down, all the way down to your ankles, and then he's got evidence of your arousal right under his nose.

... practically literally, in this case.

"If I'm gross already," he says, pressing a kiss right where it's appreciated, "I might as well commit, hm?"

And then... his mouth is on you.

He's sucking, and you're swearing, because _fuck_ his mouth is just... oh fuck.

Your eyes are rolling back in your head, and your fingers are tangling in his hair, twisting it around enough that it's going to leave marks in your hands.

"Fuck," you say, and your voice cracks.

He makes an amused noise, and you look down at him.

He's grinning, even with his mouth full, and then he's doing... things with his tongue, things that are making you squirm, your knees weak.

It's a good thing that you're leaning back against the counter like this, or you'd fall over.

But Mark is holding you in place, his fingers digging into your hips.

You're going to have sore spots later, maybe even bruises.

He moans, and the moaning vibrates up your whole body, and leaves you shaking, your mouth open as you pant.

He's moaning almost as loudly as you are, and you don't even realize _how_ loud you're moaning, except that you can hear it echoing off of all of the tile in the room, and you're still holding on tightly to his hair, you're almost bucking your hips, because... god, his whole body seems to be attuned to yours.

He's kneading at your hips now, making wet, filthy noises that are making you throb harder, making you leak even more, and you're pretty sure you're going to cum, but you don't know if you can stop it.

You're almost having an orgasm all over your boyfriend's sweaty face - over _one of_ your _boyfriends_ sweaty faces, goddamn, when did that become your life?

Your knees are beginning to get weaker, and you're sobbing, and hunching your hips forward.

You cum into his mouth, and he makes pleased noises, then pulls back, your cum drooling out of his mouth, across his face.

"You're a mess," you tell him.

"That's what you said at the getgo," he says, his tone cheerful, and he grins at you, all cheek. "So how'd I do?"

"I'd call that pretty spectacular," Tyler says from the door, and you pull back, flushing, resisting the urge to try to cover up.

_Shit_ , he saw you.

Wait.

Why is this a "shit" situation, when you've been intimate with him?

Tyler doesn't even look that embarrassed - he's sporting a hard on, and he's grinning.

"You like the show?"

Mark is leaning back, and he's rubbing his own cock through his shorts.

"It was pretty good," Tyler says, and he licks his lips. 

"I need to go," you blurt out, because some kind of anxiety is beginning to build in your gut, and you don't know what it is.

"Of course," says Mark, and he pats you on the hip, shooting you a concerned look. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," you tell him, pulling your pajamas back up.

"If something is bothering you, you can tell either of us," said Tyler. "Okay?"

"I will," you promise them. "Just... let me sort out what it is that's bothering me, first." 

"Of course," says Tyler.

You kiss him, right on the mouth, and then you're off to go take a shower, because... well, okay, you're kind of embarrassed. 

More than kind of embarrassed.

_Really_ embarrassed.

Why are you even so embarrassed?

It's not like you guys haven't walked in on each other before - it's a thing that just happens sometimes.

And you're all adults - you're all _very much_ adults, as Mark just demonstrated.

You're blushing, as you step into the shower, tilting your head back and turning the hot water on.

You sigh, as the water hits you, and you begin to wash off.

You've got a shift in a few hours, but until then, you can enjoy the chance to enjoy.

... you're going to have to make it up to Mark, the way you just ran off without getting him off - hopefully, Tyler won't leave him too sore.

... not that Mark would complain too hard about that. 

Mark's always been a bit of a pain slut - it's one of the things that the two of you bonded over, when you first got together. 

But now you're showering, cleaning the remains of Mark's mouth off of you, his mouth and your cum. 

You're still tender, and you shudder, but god, that was... that was nice.

It's a good world, where a handsome man can give you an orgasm in your own kitchen.

Especially if it was also his kitchen.

"You busy in here?"

You nearly jump out of your skin, to see Tyler standing in the door, framed by the light from the hallway like some kind of painting of a saint.

All he needs is the halo and maybe some kind of deeply unpleasant injury, or maybe an animal doing something allegorical. 

"I mean," you say, as you blink past thoughts of gold leaf and little cherubs, "I _am_ washing up."

"Would you say no to a bit of company?"

He's still leaning against the doorframe, and goddamn. 

He's very beautiful, and your heart swells, just a bit. 

'No," you say. "That is... I wouldn't refuse some company. If it was good company."

"I like to think that I'm good company," says Tyler, and he's pulling his shirt off, then his shorts.

He climbs into the shower with you, and then it's the both of you under the hot water, pressed close, warm, wet skin against warm, wet skin.

He kisses you, and then he makes a slightly rueful face.

"I'm, uh... I'd offer you some dick, but I'm fresh out," he says.

... and that strikes you as the funniest shit ever.

Fucked if you know why, but you're pressing your face into his chest, cackling like you're being tickle tortured, and Tyler is holding you up with those big, strong arms of his, giving you a slightly confused expression, but not looking mad at all, which is good.

"So you know you got called, like, Zeus in high school?"

He rests his chin on your head, and he rubs your back. 

"How would you feel about being compared to a saint."

"Depends on the saint, I suppose," he says.

The water is cascading off of him, onto you. It's thudding against your back, like a good massage, or maybe a flogging. 

"Hmm?"

"Like, there were some of the really crazy ones, like the guy who told the one dude that the boiling oil was cold just to get him to dip his hand into it," says Tyler.

"... huh," you say.

"Or that one saint who kept feeding his frostbitten toes to the hungry wolves," Tyler adds, his tone still speculative.

You make a face.

"That's gross," you tell him.

He snorts.

"There was also the saint who had her eyeballs on a platter," he adds. "Or was it her boobs?"

"Ew," you say, wrinkling your nose and prodding him in the side.

He makes an indignant noise, and prods you back.

You squeal, loud enough that it echoes in the tiles of the small room.

He sticks his tongue out at you.

You stick your tongue out back at him, and then you stand on your tiptoes to kiss him on the mouth.

He kisses you back, and he puts his hands on your hips, squeezing them.

You sigh, and you lean into him. 

He pats you on the butt.

"I want to fuck you later today," he tells you, in a casual, "this is just a conversation we're having" kind of way.

"Do you?"

'Oh yeah," he says. "I mean, I want to fuck you all the time, but I'm just thinking in terms of, like, logistics."

"Logistics?"

"I figure, if you go into work thinking about how I'm going to fuck you, you might have a better shift," he says, in the tone of someone who is doing nothing so much as providing a service.

"Is that so?"

Your own voice is deadpan.

"Oh yeah," he says, and he smiles at you, beatific.

You snort, and you kiss him again, because you can.

He kisses you back, his big hands on your back, cupping your shoulder blades, then lower, to grab your ass.

You grind against him, and maybe you're getting turned on again, even after the excitement in the kitchen.

You've never been one to take things slowly.

But he's gently pushing you away.

"Later," he promises. "Okay?"

"Okay," you say, although your blood is still hot and singing in your veins.

He kisses the top of your head, and then he reaches for the soap. 

"Wash me?"

"Of course."

* * *

You go to work.

You do your shift (urrrrgh), and then you come home, smelly and tired but ultimately satisfied.

You've got a few days off coming up, and you're going to enjoy them. 

Tyler is sitting at the kitchen table, and he gives you a sympathetic look when you more or less stagger in.

"Hi," you tell him.

"Hi," he says. 

"Where's Mark?"

"Doing another video," he tells you. "There's a lot of shouting in this one, so he told me to tell you to leave him alone."

"Do we ever bother him when he's filming?"

"Well, no," said Tyler, "but apparently today's game has been a bit of a Trial."

You can hear the capital "t" in the word, and you grin a bit in spite of yourself. 

“What kind of trial?” 

You sit at the kitchen table, putting your feet up, your eyes half shut, and then he’s moving closer to you, so that he can take your foot into his lap.

You kicked your shoes off when you got home, and now he’s pulling your (admittedly disgusting) socks off, and he’s just… kneading at your foot, cracking your toes, and it’s… it’s a bit like heaven.

You sigh, practically melting into your chair, your eyes sliding shut.

“That’s nice,” you tell him.

“I’m glad,” he says. 

You smile at him, and there's genuine affection in his look - not just lust, or the passion that comes with the beginning of a relationship, but affection.

You sigh, and you lean into the chair, as he takes your other foot.

"So how was work?"

"It was... itself," you say, making a face, because it was. 

"Curse this capitalist society we live in," Tyler says, with an entirely straight face as he begins to really knead at your foot.

You sigh, your toes curling against his fingers. 

"Indeed," you say. 

"So are you still up for having sex later?"

"How later is "later," in this case?"

You're flexing your toes, curling them around his fingers, and he slides his finger between your toes, as you squeeze it.

He makes an amused noise, squeezing your toes, and you sigh again. 

"As later as you want it, although preferably before we go to bed," he says. "I want to be able to take a shower before I get in bed."

"Right," you say. 

That's pretty reasonable.

"Mark is probably gonna be holed up in there for a while," he adds.

"You think?"

"When I poked my head in, he looked like he was going to throw his chair through a window, so I don't think it's going too well just yet," says Tyler. 

You make a face.

You've seen Mark when he's in that kind of mood. 

"Fair enough," you say. 

"So it'll be you and me," he says, and he does something humorous with his eyebrows.

You snicker, and he does it again, no doubt to make you laugh again.

It works, and you're still snickering as you lean back into your chair, and he rubs your feet.

"So yeah," he says, and he looks faintly embarrassed, as he keeps working your feet over. "I was, uh... I've been looking forward to it all day."

"What, us having sex?"

"Yeah. That."

"Right."

Then his expression gets stricken. 

"Although," he says quickly, "if you think that I'm saying that as some kind of way to get you to say yes, if you don't want to say yes -"

"I don't think that," you tell him. "I promise. I'm just... you're cute."

He blushes.

"Thanks," he says.

He's moving up, from your feet to your ankles, and you squirm, just a bit - you're sensitive.

And he's looking at you with an expression that could best be read as "interested."

"So," he says, "what, in particular, are you in the mood for?"

You shrug, rubbing the back of your neck.

Sometimes, you can get kind of... bashful about this sort of thing.

It's embarrassing, but... well, everyone you're intimate with is patient with you, and that's all that matters, right?

He pats you on the leg, and then he's putting your feet down, and he's... god, he's standing up, and he's towering over you, just enough that it's a little bit scary, except he's bending down and he's kissing you.

It's a deep kiss, his tongue inside of your mouth, tracing along the shape of your teeth, tasting the insides of your cheeks.

His hands are on your face, and then in your hair, and okay, it's kind of sweaty, but he's pressing closer to you, until you're tilting your head all the way back, and he's kissing you, he keeps kissing you, kissing you until it's almost like you're going to swoon like a lady in a certain type of old movie.

... which gets you giggling, just a bit.

He looks at you, barely an inch away from your face, almost cross eyed.

"Is something the matter?"

"We should get a fainting couch," you tell him.

He withdraws another few inches, looking at you quizzically. 

"... why?"

"They seem like a good thing to have," you tell him, trying to keep your tone earnest.

... it doesn't work.

You're grinning, and then you're giggling, and then you're full on _laughing_ , and he's laughing too, even as he begins to kiss along your face, down your neck, pushing aside the collar of your work shirt.

"I smell like work," you murmur, and then he's pulling you to your feet.

"I can live with that," he tells you, and he's taking you by the hand, pulling you up the stairs, into his bedroom, and he's... god, he's just pushing you onto the bed, spreading your legs, and he's... unbuttoning your pants, pulling them down.

"I want to eat your ass," he tells you, as if that's just a thing that you say, and you're blushing so hard, but you not. 

"I'm all... gross."

"What kind of gross?"

"The kind of gross that's been working a six hour shift," you tell him. 

"That's not too bad," he says, and you let him pull your pants down, let him take your underwear with it, and then you're completely naked below the waist. "Just sweaty."

"Right," you say. "You washed my butt."

"I did indeed," he says. "At least partially because I was planning this."

And then he winks at you. 

... are you embarrassed?

Are you horny?

He's pulling you closer, by the hips, and he's spreading your legs, bringing your knees up to his shoulders.

He looks up at you, and he's smirking at you - that's a goddamn smirk, there's no other way to interpret it, and you're blushing as he licks his lips.

His mouth is... god, his mouth is... is very close to your asshole, and you're almost embarrassed, except he's holding you open with both hands, his thumbs holding your asshole open, and he's just... looking at you. 

You're blushing, and your hands are resting on top of his head, as he begins to lick.

... to really lick. 

Oh god, he's... he's doing things with his tongues, things that are making you twist your fingers through his hair, as you thrash over him, your heels digging into him, your head thrown back.

You're moaning up at the sky, and you're beginning to shake, because... holy fuck, he's a lot better at eating ass than he has any right to be.

Tyler is very good at doing whatever he does, when he wants to do it, and you're pulling on your own hair now, to keep from squirming too much, and you sob, you grind into it, and he's still tongue fucking your ass, fuck, your whole body is just _shaking_.

And then he pulls back. 

"How am I doing?"

"Why'd you _stop_?!"

Your voice cracks like a teenager's. 

"Sorry," he says, and he makes an amused noise, and goes back to rimming you. 

* * *

You have a small orgasm - a mini orgasm, as it were.

You weren't aware that it's a thing you could do, except that your hips are juddering forward, and your thighs are like marble, as you get tenser and tenser, until you're beginning to sob, your tears dripping down your face.

"Babe," he says, and he kisses your inner thigh. "Babe, are you okay?"

You nod, still shaking, your toes curling, tingles passing through your whole body, your mouth falling open. 

Your tongue is dry from all the panting.

Holy fuck. 

"Okay," you say. "Okay. Um." 

"Is that a "yes" or a "no"?"

His expression is downright... worried. 

"I'm fine," you say. 

"Good to know," he says. "So how about I put my dick in that sweet ass?"

"You just had your mouth in it," you tell him. "Is it really sweet?"

He pauses, momentarily nonplussed. 

"Oh my god," says Tyler. "Oh my god."

"... what?"

"You're fucking adorable," he tells you, and then he's getting up, getting off of the floor, and he's... he's going to get a condom, to get lube, and he's licking his lips, rolling a condom onto his cock.

"So... I'd like to do this with you on your back," he says, and he's rolling a condom onto his cock. "I want to kiss you."

"... brush your teeth first," you tell him.

"What?" 

"Before you kiss me, brush your teeth," you tell him. 

"Oh. Why?"

'Because your breath is horrible," you say.

"How do you know it's horrible, when you haven't tasted it?"

"Because you were eating my ass," you say. "I don't... ass doesn't taste that good, as far as I know."

He raises an eyebrow. 

You blush. 

"Okay," he says, after a minute. "Okay. Stay there."

"Where am I going to go," you call, as he goes to the bathroom.

You hear him brushing his teeth, and then he's back, his cock still covered in latex, still hard, and he's making his way towards the bedroom. 

He leans over, and he kisses you like a monster, his tongue in your mouth, his cock wet with lube, pressing against your inner thighs. 

"God, I can't wait to get inside of you," he says, and he kisses along your neck, while he lines his cock up with your ass. "I've been thinking about it all day."

"Why have you been thinking about it?"

"Because your ass is a thing that was gifted to us by the gods, and who am I, if not someone to appreciate said gift?"

"Gods?"

He shrugs.

"I've been reading too much stuff," he says, and he's... lining the head of his cock up with your hole, and he's rolling his hips, brushing it carefully, and you're shaking, breathing heavily, your mouth opening wider, as he begins to slide in, carefully.

"Stuff?"

"I can talk about this, or I can fuck you," he says, and he's right in your face, forehead to forehead.

He is very pink.

"Y'know. Stuff. I don't fucking know."

He rolls his hips, and then... he's pushing himself in deeper.

Pushing himself in all the way to the root, and you squeeze around him, beginning to shake. 

Fuck... he's so thick. 

He's thick, and he's pulsing inside of you already, as his hand goes right... right where you want it, right where it's good, as he begins to rub with his thumb.

You sob, and you begin to roll your hips, digging your heels into everything, and you're shaking, panting so hard that you're beginning to lose your breath, and you;re.... you're trying to concentrate, you're trying to just feel it, as he begins to sweat against you, as he begins breath against your face, and he's kissing you, as he rubs, as he presses his chest against yours, and the two of you are just _fucking_ \- he fucks you like he's never fucked someone before, he's got his cock so deep inside of you that... god, you don't even know, except that you're going to cum, especially if he keeps at it, and you're whimpering, shaking.

"God, baby," he says, and he's right in your ear, beginning to kiss along your neck, soft and wet, and he's still working his hands, working his hips, and he's so thick, he's so... warm, he's so wet, he's so thick, god, you're losing your mind, how is it this good, how is it this amazing, how is all of this so wonderful, how can you... what....

Oh god.

Fuck. 

You don't know what your brain is doing, you don't know what's going on, except that you're beginning to fuck him harder, you're being fucked perfectly, and you're digging your heels into his back.

He's groaning - he's grunting, moaning, and his cock is still inside of you, it's beginning to swell, to throb, and you're beginning to shake too, squeezing him tighter, and you're bucking into him, as he bucks into you, and his hand is moving faster, getting stickier, and you're just... god, you're leaking like a goddamn faucet, and his wrist is going to hurt, but none of that matters, and you're getting tighter, your whole body is beginning to do the ... the... oh, fuck, you're cumming. 

You're cumming, right across his belly, right across your own chest, and then he's cumming inside of you, he's cumming like a torrent, and his face is like a goddamn angel as he does. 

He kisses along your jaw, his breath still minty, and he looks down at you, panting.

"Fuck," he says.

"We just did," you tell him, your tone serious.

He make a face, and you start laughing, which makes him wince, carefully pulling his cock out from inside of you, and he kisses your jaw.

You're shaking, as you try to get your breath back, and he's taking the condom off, tying it in a knot and dumping it into the garbage. 

"You always make that joke," he says to you.

"Not always-always," you say.

He rolls his eyes.

"You're more pedantic than usual," he says. 

"It's the orgasm," you tell him. "All those good orgasm juices got me more... thingy."

"Good orgasm juices," he says, as he's going to the bathroom to get a washcloth. 

"Shut up," you say, making a vague hand gesture at him. 

He comes back, and he wipes you clean, carefully, with the washcloth - it's warm, and it's damp, and you're sprawled out like a lazy housecat.

And then there was a knock on the door, and Mark was sticking his head around the door.

You're blushing, but you don't cover anything.

It's not like Mark hasn't seen everything before. 

"Hi," he says. "You guys have fun?"

You give a thumbs up.

"Can I... I mean, are you guys having a moment? Or can I join in?"

Mark is looking bashful, rubbing his hands together.

"I can't get it up again for a while," Tyler says, indicating his bare cock.

He's standing there, completely naked. 

"Nah," says Mark. "I'm good."

He flops onto the bed next to you, and you cuddle up to him, your head on his chest.

He's not complaining about the fact that you smell like work, or that you smell like Tyler, or that the whole room smells like sex.

And then Tyler is next to your other side, and you sigh, relaxing.

"Hey Mark?"

Tyler's voice is comfortable, lazy.

"Mmm?"

"Does it bother you being the only person who isn't naked right now?"

"Not really," he says. "You're gonna be cold in, like, ten minutes, and complain about it, and I'll be nice and toasty."

You snicker.

"I could just use you to keep my feet warm," you tell him.

"Is that all I am to you? A glorified foot warmer?"

"You warm my dick sometimes," Tyler said, from your other side.

You snicker, covering your face with both hands to muffle the gross, snorting laughter that is trying to come out of you, but Mark still gives you both a withering Look.

It even warrants a capital "L."

He pokes you in the side, and you poke him back, and then he's... climbing on top of you, so that he can poke Tyler in the side as well.

"That game was horrible," he says.

His voice is still rough from all the screaming he did.

That's usually a sign that a game was particularly frustrating. 

Poor Mark. 

"Was it, like, _Get Over It_ levels of frustrating."

"I'm not dead of a rage induced heart attack," Mark says, his tone dry.

"You wouldn't have a rage induced heart attack," Tyler says. "Maybe a stroke."

"How could rage cause a stroke?"

"Aneurysm?" 

"Yeah, that."

"That sure is comforting," Mark says, his tone dry as old bones. 

"I do my best," Tyler says, smiling sweetly.

Mark sighs, and he pulls each of you closer.

"Thanks," he says, his voice quiet.

"For what?"

Your head is on his chest, and his heart is beating right through your head.

It's so... nice, to be able to do this.

To be able to be cuddled, to be able to hold someone.

To have two warm bodies, so close to your own.

To inhabit your own skin, as yourself, with other people being themselves....

Wow.

You're having a lot of feelings.

You're having a lot of feelings, right here, into Mark's chest, and you're crying into it.

... shit, you're really crying.

You're ugly crying, and Tyler and Mark are both making slightly concerned noises, as you leave a wet spot in Mark's chest.

"... babe?"

"I'm fine," you mumble, and you're wiping your face carefully, blushing harder, trying to catch your breath, trying to stop being weird. 

"Well, I mean, you've got stuff coming out of your face," says Mark, in the tone of someone who is worried they'll get yelled at. 

"It's just feelings," you mumble. "Coming out of your face?"

"Yeah," you mumble, wiping your face with the back of your hand, and you snuffle, and you sigh. 

"Well," Tyler says, "feelings are a part of life."

"You sound downright _philosophical_ when you say it like that," says Mark. 

"I can be philosophical," Tyler says. "I'm not just a pretty face."

"You've got a very pretty face," you tell Tyler, and you pat his cheek. 

He kisses your palm.

You're blushing, just a bit, but he smiles at you. 

"Aren't you sweet," he says. 

"I do my best," you demur. 

"So," you say, "I need to shower."

"You do," says Mark. "You smell horrible." 

"You're my boyfriend,' you say, "you're supposed to tell me that I smell great."

"I'm supposed to be honest with you," he tells you.

"Well, yes," you say, "but still."

"Still?"

"You could be nicer about it," you huff.

"My darling, the light of my eye, the person who I love enough to let into my home and into my life, would it be too much trouble for you to go wash the work stank off of you before I make you dinner?"

"Ooo, you're gonna make dinner?"

You perk up. 

"I'm gonna make dinner," says Mark. "It'll make me feel less dumb about that stupid game."

"How bad was it?"

"It was pretty fucking bad," Mark grumbles.

Tyler kisses the top Mark's head. 

"Your life is such a hard one," he says in a voice that's dripping with sarcasm. 

"You wanna play the obnoxious games, and I'll stream?"

"No, no," says Mark quickly.

"Any of you guys want _my_ job?"

Only a little bit of annoyance leaks into your voice, but still. 

"No," they both say in unison.

You roll your eyes, and you nudge them in the side with an elbow.

You get up, slowly, and you stretch, then make your way towards the bathroom.

“I’m going to shower,” you say, and you kiss each of them, and then you make your way towards the bathroom, your feet still sore, but oh god, your ass is just… wow.

You’ve got lube dripping down the back of your thigh, which is kind of uncomfortable, but… god _damn_ , that was good. 

Really good. 

* * *

Mark makes dinner.

He makes chicken, and you eat chicken, and then the three of you end up cuddling up on the couch, and Tyler rests his head on your lap, as you stroke his hair, twisting it around your fingers. 

You fall asleep with Tyler’s head in your lap, Mark’s head on your shoulder.

You sleep like the dead.

You wake up with a sore neck, wrapped in a blanket, to the sun in your face, with Chica’s chin on your leg. 

“Hi,” you say to her.

“You work too hard,” Mark calls from the kitchen.

“Someone’s gotta bring in the big bucks,” you call back.

He snorts.

* * *

You eat breakfast, you get on with your day - time goes on, the way life does.

The three of you continue to live together - stuff happens, the way that stuff always happens.

You nearly burn down the house by accident, when you leave the stove on when you leave for work on a day where you lose track of time. 

Mark completely loses his voice, and does a lot of scribbling - you and Tyler make him tea, and a lot of jokes about how nice the quiet is.

You get into a rather spectacular argument - who knew you could get into an argument about toothpaste?

... Tyler got you your own tube of toothpaste, after the argument.

He's a nice guy like that.

In a weird way, it's a relief - it's like some of the tension has left.

You're not trying to be your "best" selves, your "company" selves - you're just being... well, yourselves.

And part of that comes more comfort with the three of you as a triad.

That's been the hardest part, really - even as an actively polyamorous person, you've still got a bit of the... shame left, in the back of your mind. 

A relationship is between two people - it can be between multiple sets of two people, but it's still two people.

But then it's the three of you, and it's not, like, some kind of special whatever.

It's just you and Tyler and Mark, the three of you being yourselves around each other, and sometimes it's romantic, and sometimes it's comfortable, and sometimes it's sexy....

Actually, it's been getting sexier.

Sexier in ways that make you blush, just a bit.

You're getting more comfortable seeing Mark and Tyler together - there was some awkwardness, to begin with, because... well, they've been good friends since they were teenagers, and here's you, stumbling in late to the game.

It isn't event that they make you feel unwelcome or anything like that. You just... you're well aware of your place as a third.

As it were.

You're an interloper, a stranger, who wasn't there for certain life events, who hasn't helped them through particular hardships.

Although then again, you've been through hardships with the two of them, albeit different ones.

Maybe you're thinking too deeply into things.

You pull out of your woolgathering, as Tyler nearly hits Mark in the head when he opens a cabinet.

You lick your lips, and you watch them, as they lean into each other, joke, and you lean into your chair, getting comfortable.

It was... it was a shift.

You survived it.

You'll continue to survive them, because that's what you need to do, but for now... well, you're very glad to be home. 

You yawn, rubbing your eyes, and you see the two of them both turn towards you, their expressions interested.

"Are we boring you?"

Mark's tone is dry.

"I wasn't aware that you were trying to entertain me," you say. 

"You mean you don't assume that literally everything that we engage in is for your entertainment?"

Tyler's voice is so flat you could use it to balance a level. 

... does that even make sense?

You don't fucking know.

You rub your eyes again, your body aching - you showered when you got home, to smell less like work, but you're still tired. 

"I apologize for my assumption," you say. "Here I was, thinking you existed as autonomous individuals."

"Oh yeah," Mark says, and he thrusts his hips forward, like he's in some kind of bad porno, or an especially horny music video. "Objectify me more, baby!"

He moans like he's being paid for it, and you freeze, and you blush, because... um.

You make eye contact with Tyler, and he's blushing as well.

Um.

"You two alright?"

Mark looks over his shoulder at Tyler, then looks over at you, one eyebrow up.

You're standing up before you have time to think about it, and you're pressing close to Mark, chest to chest, belly to belly.

You kiss him - you kiss him with your whole mouth, your fingers going into his hair, your tongue practically invading his mouth.

He shudders against you, and then he's moaning against your mouth, because Tyler is kissing along Mark's neck, and then it's not just _kissing_ , it's full on biting, and Mark is going utterly stiff, his eyes squeezing shut, his breath coming in desperate little pants.

"Fuck," Mark says.

You lean in, your hands on Mark's hips, and your hands overlap with Tyler's, and then you're kissing Tyler, and Mark is moaning, nuzzling into your neck, and he's beginning to shake, as he clutches at you.

"Fuck," Mark says again, and Tyler's tongue is in your mouth, and god, that's... this is dizzying. 

You're already starting to sweat, and Mark is pulling you closer, and he's grinding his hips forward, and he's already hard, right up against you.

"Someone's easy to work up," you say, right in Mark's ear. 

Mark shudders.

"I am surrounded by hot people," Mark grumbles, "how the fuck else do you expect me to react?"

Tyler snickers.

"You think I'm hot?"

You're a little embarrassed at how nervous you sound, as you say it.

Mark rolls his eyes, grabs your hand, presses it between the two of you, so that you're curving around his cock, and... yeah, that's most definitely a hard cock.

A hard cock, with a wet tip, soaking through his shorts, and you're beginning to jerk him off gently, carefully, as he begins to shake against you.

"God," he says, " _fuck_...."

You keep rubbing his cock, and he holds on tightly to your shoulders, and then... you're getting on your knees. 

Fuck it, if you're going to have your first threesome in your kitchen while you wait for dinner to arrive, why not do it as it goes?

You lean forward, and you mouth his cock through his shorts, and then you can feel Tyler rolling his hips - his cock is clearly rubbing right up against something sensitive of Mark's.

"I want you... I want you to grind against me," says Mark, his voice thick. 

"Mmm?"

"Both of you," he says, "please. Please. I want you to... please...."

"What do you want me to do?"

You kiss the head of his cock through his shorts, through his underwear. 

"My leg," he says. "Straddle... straddle my leg."

And then... Tyler is shoving Mark's shorts down, and Tyler's cock is pressed between Mark's bare thighs, and you begin to bob your head, as you wrap your mouth around his cock.

You begin to bob your head, sucking, and you hold on to Mark's shoulders. 

And... Mark is leaning back against Tyler, and Mark's leg is between your legs, and you're straddling the leg, humping against Mark's shin.

You're shuddering, as you begin to take it deeper, beginning to really suck, and Mark is just... holding on to your hair, as he melts against Tyler, as he rolls his hips against you.

You're just riding Mark's shin.

Just... grinding your hips, humping his leg like some kind of dog, and you'd be embarrassed about it, except it feels so fucking good, and why does it feel so good? 

It shouldn't - you're not exactly young like you used to be, when anything would set you off.

But fuck it.

You reach down to play with Mark's balls, and you encounter the head of Tyler's cock - you press down on it, gently, run your fingertips along it, and Tyler just shudders, beginning to shake.

"You're... a fucking tease," Mark says, his voice rough.

You pull off of his cock, to kiss along one thigh. 

"Which one of us?"

"Both of you," Mark says, and his voice cracks like a teenager's.

You grin, and you keep eye contact with him as you lean forward, opening your mouth up, letting the head of his cock rest on your lower lip, then jabbing at the slit with the very tip of your tongue.

He shudders, going stock still, and you smile, then take him into your mouth again, deeper this time.

You swallow around it, and he moans, a long, guttural sound.

"God," he says, his voice thick, and he's squeezing his thighs together, no doubt to make a tighter channel for Tyler to fuck.

Tyler is shaking Mark, as he fucks Mark's thighs, and that must feel good, judging by the ways that Tyler is moaning and gasping.

You let go of Mark's cock, forgetting your own humping, your own grinding, to lick the head of Tyler's cock, right from its spot under Mark's balls, between Mark's thighs.

You've got Mark's cock in your fist, still, and you pump it.

Tyler makes a pained, desperate noise, his hips rolling forward as well, and you begin to suck a little harder, drooling down your chin, swirling your tongue. 

You can't get much more than the tip of his cock into your lips, but he's not complaining, judging by the way he's gasping. 

You grin a bit in spite of yourself, and then you turn your face up, so that Mark's cock can slide across your lips. 

"Do you just want to... do you just want to blow us both at the same time?"

Tyler's question is matter of fact, but when you look up at him over Mark's shoulder, you can see how red his face is.

"I dunno," you say, and you try to sound casual and matter of fact as well. "Do you want me to?"

"Could be fun," Tyler allows. "I'd have to stop fucking your thighs, Mark."

"I'll somehow find it in me to live with it," Mark says, his voice dry, and then.... Tyler is coming out from behind Mark, and they're both standing in front of you.

You're not straddling Mark's leg anymore, you're just standing there, and you're opening your mouth, to take in Tyler's cock, jerking off Mark's, and then you're coming off of Tyler's, to begin to suck Mark's.

You move from cock to cock, bobbing your head and drooling, making an utter mess of yourself.

... you're going to need another shower, the way things are going. 

Oh well.

At one point, you motion for them to move closer together, and you press their cocks together, beginning to stroke them in tandem. 

They're both moaning, and they've got their eyes glued on you.

You... god, this is debauched, but you just lean forward, and you take both cocks into your mouth at the same time.

It pulls your mouth open, and it's kind of uncomfortable, but their cocks are rubbing together, and you're doing your best not to scrape with your teeth, you're doing your best to make sure that they're both enjoying themselves, that they're going to cum down your throat, or maybe all over you, or all over each other.

You look up at them, and you watch as they kiss each other, as their cocks keep going deeper inside of your mouth, and you try to slurp, to lick, to not make too many noises like you're in some kind of skeezy h eantai. 

They're both getting weak in the knees, and then... god, and then, Tyler is going stiff, and he's cumming, right down your throat, right across Mark's cock, and then Mark's cock is getting hotter, thicker, and he's cumming as well, and both of their cum is in your mouth, and okay, that's... that's kind of gross, it's super slimy, but it's happening, and you let it drool out of your mouth, you swallow a little bit of it, and you're an utter drooly, cummy mess. 

"Fuck," Mark says, and he's looking down at you, his eyes wide, as he pulls his cock out of your mouth. 

"That was amazing," Tyler says. 

And then... they're both on the floor.

There's no transition, nothing like that, they're both just pushing you onto your back, right there on the floor, and you're leaning back against one of them as they hold you, playing with your nipples, kissing along your neck, while the other is crawling between your legs.

It takes a few seconds to sort out who is doing what - Mark is holding you, twisting your nipples, sucking on your earlobes, while Tyler begins to lick and suck between your legs, begins to do... things with his tongue, things that are making you arch and wriggle. 

You cum across Tyler’s face, your legs shaking, and he kisses your thigh, looking up at you.

“So,” Mark speaks up, “the next threesome, maybe on a bed? Because my knees are fucking killing me.”

Your heart skips a beat at the term “next threesome,” but you grin, giving a thumbs up. 

“Sounds like a plan,” you say.

**Author's Note:**

> Like this fic?
> 
> Want me to write you something like it, or something completely different?
> 
> Come talk to me on my tumblr, theseusinthemaze. tumblr.com!


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